


Azeroth X-Treme!

by silverr



Category: Stargate SG-1, World of Warcraft
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Episode: s05e12 Wormhole X-Treme, Gen, Language Barrier, Open to Interpretation, Somewhat Lost in Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverr/pseuds/silverr
Summary: "So, Marty," Jack said, "what'cha been doing?"The SG-1 team is sent to investigate what an old friend has been up to in Montana.
Relationships: Asric/Jadaar (Warcraft), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 10





	Azeroth X-Treme!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mipeltaja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mipeltaja/gifts).



> Thank you to **nalanzu** for beta! (I touched it last, though, so any errors are mine.)
> 
> Can be considered to take place somewhere between "Citizen Joe" and "200."

##  _._

##  _._

##  _Montana_

.

The house was at the edge of town, a shabby, boxy cube with mint green siding and a gray roof that crouched, turtle-like, behind the straggly pines that separated it from its dilapidated neighbors. The front yard, a sparse crop of dirt and trash, was enclosed by a low chain-link fence.

"His show didn't do too well, did it?" Jack said. They had parked the car across the street and now stood regarding the house.

"It did not," Teal'c said.

"I hope he didn't spend all his residuals in one place."

"He can't have received much," Sam said. "The show was cancelled after three episodes."

They crossed the street and knocked on the front door, and then began the requisite five minute-wait for him to answer. Sam was just reaching into her pocket when the curtain next to the door twitched; a moment later came the sound of several locks disengaging.

The balding, bespectacled man that opened the door looked both fearful and excited. "I wondered when you'd come out," he said. "I thought it'd be sooner."

"Hello, Marty," Jack said. "What'cha been doing?"

.

"Would you like something to drink?" Martin asked as they came in. "Since we have to wait until Doctor Jackson gets here?"

"Don't you mean Doctor Levant?" Jack said, eyeing the superhero bric-a-brac that crowded the top of the small bookcase next to the incongruously large television in Martin's small front room. "He's busy today. Off doing something arcadian."

"Akkadian," Sam corrected quietly. "A Bronze Age language."

"Wait, so it's nothing to do with arcades?" Jack asked her. "And here I was envious of all the fun I thought he was having!"

"At least you brought Murray," Martin said. He was in the tiny kitchen, peering into an ancient Frigidaire. "Okay, I got cherry soda and about half a box of rose, but I could go down to Jake's and pick up a six-pack of something."

"No need, Marty," Jack said. "This isn't a social call."

"Oh." Martin closed the refrigerator and walked back to the front room, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Right. Okay. So, I guess you're here about my stargate?"

Hammond's briefing had been straightforward. A routine audit of the Gate Room log had identified dozens of instances of a previously-unknown Stargate operating in Montana, dialing an address not in the SGC database.

"Yes. We're here about your gate, Marty."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Let me guess," Jack said, "It's in the basement, a dank space poorly lit by small, cobwebby windows?"

Martin frowned. "No. It's in my guest room." He led them down a short hallway, pushed open a door, and switched on the light. 

Against the far wall of the windowless room, the top of a long cafeteria table was crowded with monitors and precarious towers of cardboard boxes. To the right of the table was a silvery, half-size stargate elevated on a stack of cinderblocks. 

"Aw, that's cute," Jack said. "You covered it in tinfoil."

Sam, who had leaned around the side of the empty ring to look behind it, turned to Jack and said, "Remember that — persistent house guest I had a few years ago?"

"Yeah," Jack replied slowly. "That — really persistent guy. From out of town."

"Well," Sam said, "this looks enough like what he built to maybe be legit. Fiber optic cables, industrial strength capacitors—"

"Of course it's legit," Martin said.

"What happened there?" Teal'c asked. He was next to the twin bed pushed against the left-hand wall, looking down at the corner of the bed, which looked as though a giant with flaming teeth had taken a bite of it, scorching through quilt, sheets, mattress and bedframe. 

"Oh, that?" Martin said absently, waving his hand. "The kawoosh. It took me a while to figure out the optimal furniture placement in here." 

"Yet you figured out how to build a stargate?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised. "All by yourself?"

"Of course not," Martin said. "I bought the plans on eBay." He pressed the button on a monitor, but its screen remained black. 

Jack turned to Sam and repeated, "He found the plans on eBay." 

"That's not possible," she said.

"Sure it is," Martin said, "but it's nothing the Air Force has to worry about. The general public won't get anywhere using the minigate schematics sold online, because they're crap. I had to make a lot of tweaks and modifications." 

"Such as?"

Martin slapped the top of the monitor, and it flickered on. "Such as, if you want more than one use out of the thing, you have to use a toaster _oven_ and not a toaster."

"Whither do you plan to travel?" Teal'c asked.

"Me? Nowhere," Martin said. He had turned his computer on, and despite wheezes from the fan and grinding noises from the hard drive it appeared to be starting up. "But I know a lot of people who are ready to pay big bucks to go."

"So you're doing this for money?" Sam asked.

"I have to," Martin said peevishly. "My series got cancelled. They keep saying maybe they'll release the episodes to DVD if the fans make enough noise, but you can't ever count on that."

"Of course not," Jack said.

"You're going to send people off to a random planet? Do you have any idea what's there?" Sam said.

"It's not random," Martin said. "I know exactly where the address goes, and what's there." He double-clicked a file on his computer. "It's this."

It was an aerial view of a desert landscape surrounded by craggy mountains, but the picture was dominated by a huge terraced plaza that drew the eye up three flights of steps, past gigantic statues and obelisks, to the entrance of a pyramid. 

"Hm," Jack said as both Sam and Teal'c moved closer to Martin's chair to look. "Daniel is really going to kick himself for missing this."

"Are those statues goa'ulds, do you think?" Martin asked.

Teal'c nodded. "It is possible."

"Big egos, big statues," Jack added.

"I knew you'd want to take a look around!" Martin said. "Okay, so, Captain Carter, you should probably scooch a little more to the left before I fire it up." After Sam moved to stand next to Teal'c, he asked, "Ready?" 

"Sure," Jack said.

Martin opened a second file on his computer, an Excel spreadsheet, and began to drag cells around.

Jack glanced at Sam, and she gave a small _Don't ask me_ shrug, but five minutes later, as the unstable vortex subsided into the silvery plane of the event horizon, she nodded slowly and said, "Wow, you really _did_ build a stargate!"

"I can't believe you doubted me," Martin said. 

"Your history of presenting factual information is not stellar, Martin Lloyd," Teal'c said. 

Jack nodded at Teal'c. "Oh, I like what you did there."

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Ready to jump in?" Martin asked.

Jack patted his vest pockets. "You don't happen to have an Air Force MALP stashed anywhere, do you? 'Cause, darn, I forgot to bring ours, and we're not diving in your piddly puddle without seeing a readout."

"Oh, it's totally safe," Martin said. 

Jack clapped Martin on the shoulder. "Tell ya what, Marty, what say you come with us? Give us the grand tour?"

"Oh, I can't," Martin said, shaking his head. "There's no hardware on the other end. I have to stay here so that I can retrieve you. In case you get in trouble."

"Sir, even if we had a portable dialer, going to a destination without a gate…" Sam said.

"Yeah." Jack sucked in air between his teeth and shook his head. "Yeah, Marty, I don't think we want to do that."

"One of you could stay," Martin said. "To make sure I keep my promise to bring you back. Captain Carter, maybe?"

"I will stay and guard Mr Lloyd," Teal'c said, bending his head to look down at Martin.

"As much fun as that would be to see," Jack said, "we're likely to need your expertise. Especially if there are goa'uld artifacts or road signs or whatever." He pulled out his phone. "Fortunately, I have a better idea."

A short while later, after nearly two dozen SGC security police had arrived with a MALP, a very nervous-looking Martin Lloyd re-opened his minigate.

"Could they at least wait outside?" Martin asked. "They make me nervous, and I make mistakes when I'm nervous."

Jack tossed his head at the security police. "Mind waiting in the hallway, guys?" he asked, and then added, "And maybe post a few outside under the bathroom window?"

As soon as the security forces had withdrawn Jack asked, "Okay, Marty, how do we come back?" 

"All you have to do is wave your hands and say out loud that you want to leave," Martin said, "and I'll create a virtual gate right next to you."

"Just like that?" 

Martin nodded.

"Anything else we need to know?" Jack asked.

"Murray should take his staff weapon," Martin said. "It'll make you look like you belong there."

.

.

##  _The Halls of Origination, Uldum_

.

After a MALP confirmed that the atmosphere of the destination — provisionally assigned the number PMN-234 — was non-toxic and breathable, Martin's minigate deposited them in front of the pyramid's entrance, a yawning cavelike opening covered by a shimmering green force field.

The MALP had apparently driven though the force field with no effect.

"Well, that's new," Jack said.

Sam picked up a rock and tossed it at the field. The rock passed through without consequence and clattered on the stone walkway beyond. 

"Maybe it doesn't react to non-organic matter?" she conjectured.

"Only one way to find out," Jack said.

He stepped through and disappeared, but a moment later reappeared outside of the force field. "Took me inside," he said, ruffling his hair. 

"And?" Sam prompted.

"And then I missed your smiling faces, so I turned about and stepped right back out."

"You appear to be unharmed, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

"Well," he said, "so far I don't feel harmed. Still, just in case this is one of these selective teleporters like the one on Cimmeria, maybe you should stay outside?"

"I no longer carry a symbiote, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "And if this is indeed a goa'uld base, I will be more useful inside."

"Fair enough," Jack said. "Let's go."

The inside of the pyramid, instead of being the usual maze of normal-sized corridors with decorative metal wall panels that you'd find in, say, a Ha'tak, looked like a series of over-sized rooms. Stone floors, towering open doorways, massive staircases, with drifts of white sand and broken colossi.

"They changed decorators, I see," Jack said, his voice echoing in the huge hollow space. "Well, it's good to keep things fresh." 

They descended cautiously into the lower levels. Here, the scale of the architecture was greatly reduced and simplified, in places almost cave-like.

"No one's been home here for a long time," Jack said quietly as they descended to a 4-way intersection. "Although I always wondered, why does everyone leave the lights on? Places like this always have torches all over the place. Waste of flammables, if you ask me."

Ahead, stairs mirroring those they'd just descended climbed out of sight around a dimly-lit corner; to either side, smaller hallways branched off into inky darkness.

"I'm not sure of that sir," Sam said. "There are some faint thermal signatures, and they're moving."

"Animals, perhaps." Teal'c suggested.

Sam nodded. "Probably."

Jack squinted at his watch. "Let's give it 15 more minutes, then we'll call for a taxi. Teal'c, you take one; we'll take the other."

"Understood." Teal'c took out his night vision goggles and moved silently into the left-hand corridor.

"What a waste of time," Jack muttered as he took a small LED unit from a pocket of his vest and clipped it to his collar. 

"He can hear you, sir."

"Who? Teal'c?"

"Martin."

Jack made a sour face. "Martin," he grumbled. "Do you hear that Marty? This is an enormous waste of time!" 

"Uh, sir?"

Jack looked up to see Carter staring at the ascending stairway.

A blue-skinned humanoid, at least eight feet tall, broad-shouldered and excessively muscular, was watching them. He was wearing an eyepatch, of all things, which gave an air of shrewd intelligence to his narrow alien face. A bony crest swept up from his forehead and held back two thick braids of dark green hair. 

He spoke a string of syllables that sounded like a cross between Greek and Russian.

Jack shook his head. "Uh, sorry, big guy, we don't speak that. Daniel probably does, but we don't."

The alien then took two steps toward them — the large cloven hooves of his oddly jointed legs making no sound on the stone — and spoke again, this time pointing at them. 

"What does he want?" Sam asked, as Jack slowly eased off the safety of his P90. 

There was a hissing sound in the dark corridor to Jack's right; Jack turned and shot. The big blue guy grabbed the torch from the wall and jumped down the stairs, roaring.

A scorpion as big as a motorbike. A baseball-sized drop of clear liquid hung from the tip of its stinger: as Jack fired a second time, the scorpion flicked its tail at his face, and he fell back, blinded by venom.

"Colonel!" Sam shouted.

"Wash out my eyes, Carter," Jack gasped. "Water, milk, urine, _anything."_

"Sit down and lie back," she said, pulling him to one side of the mouth of the corridor and unscrewing the top of her canteen.

Jack groaned as she poured the water over his eyes. _"Damn,_ that burns! Are you _sure_ you're not using urine?"

"Positive sir. It's just water." Her canteen empty, she began to dig in her pack. "Um, urine? Really?" she asked as she pulled out a water bottle.

"Archaic medical procedure," Jack wheezed. "Where's Big Blue?"

"He's between us and the scorpion, sir." She unscrewed the cap of the water bottle. "Using the torch to keep it at bay."

"He'd better be careful," Jack said. "He's only got one eye left." He exhaled deeply. "Give me the water bottle, Carter. I can take it from here. You go help the big guy."

She stood and unfolded her zat'nik'tel. With a glance down the left hand tunnel — there was no sign of Teal'c — she stepped over to the side of the right-hand tunnel in time to see two more scorpions skittering toward the blue alien.

"Look out," she shouted, then fired. 

The blue energy hit the scorpions, but instead of knocking them out only slowed them for a moment; then all three darted forward and began to sting the blue alien. He cried out and fell, dropping the torch. 

Sam's second shot stopped the attack; as the scorpions backed off, she shot them a third time — and, gratifyingly, they disintegrated. She then hurried forward to the blue alien and used sand to put out the flames that had spread from the dropped torch to his clothing.

A moment later Teal'c ran out of the left-hand tunnel. Surveying the scene — Captain Carter appeared to have the situation in hand — he watched Jack, who was alternating between pouring splashes of water over his eyes and wincing. "Are you not well, O'Neill?" 

"New way to drink," Jack said. "It's gonna be all the rage."

Sam was grimacing at the stings on the alien's legs, which had already swollen to fist-sized welts leaking a dark green fluid, and the burns from the torch. "Could this be an Unas?" she asked as Teal'c came nearer.

"Unclear," Teal'c said, squatting to examine the alien's face. "The overall size and some of the features are consistent with a First One, though generally they do not have tails. Or blue skin. Or five fingers."

"I take it we won?" Jack said as he got to his feet and groped for a wall to lean against.

"More or less," Sam said. "The alien was stung several times while trying to protect us, and seems to be unconscious. Are you still blinded, sir?"

"No, I can see," Jack said, "it's just that everything's really, really blurry. Hey!" he shouted at the ceiling. "A little help here?"

There was a scuffling noise above them, in the stairwell the blue alien had come from.

"Marty?" Jack said, squinting up blearily in the general direction of the sound. "Is that you?"

What came down the stairs wasn't Martin Lloyd, but neither was it a second blue alien. Overall more human looking, aside from glowing green eyes and ridiculously long pointed ears, it was apparently male, with long reddish-brown hair. He wore form-fitting purple and gold clothing that showed off a lithe physique, and was holding two lumpy sacks. Setting them down with a clatter, he pulled out two curved daggers.

"It's… an elf, sir," Sam said wonderingly. "An angry elf."

The elf eyed her, then somehow managed to sound extremely hostile while saying something in a melodious, sing-song language.

Jack looked around for Sam and Teal'c. "Anything?"

"No," Teal'c said. "Daniel Jackson could —"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said. "Akkadian."

The blue alien groaned, and the elf snarled something in a much more guttural language.

Teal'c looked momentarily surprised, and then responded with similar speech.

Now it was the elf's turn to look surprised. He sheathed one of his daggers, and hurried down the stairs toward the corridor.

"So you understand what he's saying?" Sam asked Teal'c.

"The language he is currently speaking is somewhat similar to an obscure Goa'uld dialect," Teal'c said. "I explained to him — " Teal'c paused, and discharged his staff weapon down the corridor, where two more scorpions had appeared. "I explained to him that we did not harm his friend."

The elf had fallen to his knees and was taking stock of the blue alien's injuries, all the while darting angry looks at the SGC team and apparently berating them.

"What's he saying now?"

"He says that by destroying the bodies of the scorpions we are making it nearly impossible to save the — " Teal'c paused, as if considering his words, then said with some bafflement, "to save the wordy braggart."

Jack gave a little snort of laughter. "I had no idea McKay was here. Shouldn't he be complaining about his low blood sugar by now?" 

The elf had his hand on the blue alien's chest. He was speaking more quietly than he had previously.

"He is now grieving the imminent death of his companion," Teal'c said.

"Is there anything we can do?" Sam asked. 

Teal'c said a few words to the elf; the elf responded sharply in the Goa'uld dialect, looking over at Teal'c with an expression that was both pained and defiant.

Teal'c said, "He claims that if we will carry his companion to the nearest town, and kill scorpions on the way, an antidote can be made from their venom sacs that will also treat O'Neill's eyes."

"Yay, more archaic medical practices," Jack said. "Well, I don't see as we have much choice, since we're stuck here until Marty provides an exit." He shook his fist at the ceiling. "And he better, _because if we die here I'm gonna kill him!"_

.

.

##  _Tanaris_

.

According to the elf, whose name was Azrick, the blue alien, whose name was apparently Windbag — "Are you sure that's right?" Jack had asked, and Teal'c had assured him that the translation was correct — would not be able to walk due to the paralyzing effect of the scorpid venom, and would have to be carried.

Eyeing the unconscious alien for a moment, Teal'c then handed his staff weapon to Sam, bent down, grabbed one of Windbag's ankles, and executed a combat roll along the length of his body to hoist him, face down, across his shoulders. After a grunt and a brief struggle, Teal'c was able to stand with his cumbersome burden.

"You going to be able to manage that?" Jack asked, directing his remarks slightly to the right of where Teal'c was standing.

Sounding slightly out of breath, Teal'c replied, "For a bag of wind, he is unexpectedly heavy." His right arm over Windbag's right thigh and his right hand grasping Windbag's right wrist, Teal'c held out his left arm for his staff weapon. "It is not more than I can bear, O'Neill; even so, I would prefer to proceed to our destination quickly."

Azrick consolidated the contents of his sacks — small bits of salvaged treasure and a few golden coins — so that one sack was empty, and then led them out of the pyramid. 

Once they had descended the plaza to the desert, Azrick cut across the sands toward a line of small cliffs, where the ground was firmer and took less effort to walk on. They began following the base of the cliffs in a northerly direction.

"So where exactly are we going?" Jack asked. He was wearing his sunglasses and had pulled his hat down to shade his sensitive, swollen eyes from the sun, but even so he was still operationally almost blind: Sam had to pull his sleeve every time he started to veer off-course.

Teal'c — who had been conversing untranslated with Azrick since they exited the pyramid — said, "North to Khartut's tomb, then past the Obelisk of the Stars, through the Gate of Unending Cycles, and finally across the sands to the town of small scowling green people."

"All that, huh? Sounds far."

Teal'c explained that, according to Azrick, although the best healers were at a place called Thunder Cliff, Windbag could not be taken there because he was part of an enemy alliance.

"We could explain that he was a _good_ windbag," Jack said.

Teal'c shook his head. "You and Captain Carter would not be welcome there either. Azrick mentioned that you look like members of the enemy alliance."

"And what about you?" Jack asked. 

"Azrick has not said that I would be unwelcome there."

"Elves are in a different alliance?" Sam asked.

"Yes. They are part of a throng that is at odds with Windbag's people."

"If they're enemies, why go to all this bother to save him?"

"It has not come up in our conversations," Teal'c said, "but it is my impression that the bond between these two supersedes their natural enmity."

During a brief stop at a tiny, palm-shaded oasis, Azrick was persuaded to draw a map in the dirt showing their current location in relation to the pyramid and their final destination.

"So are we there yet?" Jack asked, leaning over and pretending to study the map until Sam gently turned him to face it.

"It's a ways yet, sir," Sam said. "We've traversed maybe a third."

"A quarter would be more accurate, Captain Carter," Teal'c said, then took a deep, resigned breath and picked up his Windbag once again.

Their spirits lifted a little as they passed the Obelisk of the Stars and entered the Gate of Unending Cycles. Cut through the line of cliffs, the relatively narrow pass was paved smooth. The sides were faced with large slabs of stone, and decorated with niches containing distinctly Egyptian-looking gods.

"Daniel would have a field day with all of this," Sam said wonderingly. "I wonder how long it's been abandoned."

Teal'c brought up his staff weapon and fired at a small scurrying shape ahead of them. "Not entirely abandoned."

They came out of the Gate, which had been lit by a bright if overcast daytime sky, to a nighttime landscape: a seemingly endless, nearly featureless desert, shimmering under a cloudless field of stars.

"Strange," Sam said, "I wonder where all the ambient light is coming from? There's no moon, and those stars alone aren't bright enough."

"Stargaze later, Carter," Jack said. "We have a windbag to deliver."

Azrick was pointing approximately thirty degrees to their heading. He spoke emphatically and at length to Teal'c.

"He says that we can burn up as many fire rocs, basilisks, hyenas, and elementals as we wish," Teal'c said, adjusting his hold on the still unconscious Windbag, "but to leave the scorpions for him."

"Well, sure," Jack said. "No problem."

They set off. At first Azrick pointed out every predator, but after seeing how accurately Teal'c picked off any shadows skimming toward them over the pale sand, he stopped. If a scorpid approached, Teal'c waited until it was nearly in striking distance to pin it down under the tip of his staff long enough for Azrick to plunge in his daggers. Most of the time Azrick had carved out the venom sac and snapped off the venom bulb at the end of the tail before the beast had even stopped moving. 

After an hour or so, they passed some ruins. "Not long now," Teal'c said. "We are at the three-quarters mark."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jack asked after Teal'c had disposed of a pack of hyenas with three unerring shots.

Teal'c blasted a basilisk. "It is a pleasant change to kill such evenly spaced, highly-visible enemies."

.

.

##  _Gadgetzan_

.

Shortly after their trudge seemed as though it would never end, the tops of narrow water towers began to rise from the horizon, and then the top of some enormous pumping mechanism, and finally a stretch of low sand-colored walls interrupted by large linteled gates.

Azrick turned to them. "Gadgetzan," he said.

"We're here?" Jack said, following the blob that was Carter to his still-impaired eyes. "What does it look like?"

"Standard marketplace," Sam said. "Sort of."

All around were a cavalcade of humanoid races. A few looked Tau'ri, but most were alien. There was a variety of green skinned people (of various sizes, with and without tusks), blue-skinned people like Windbag, gray-skinned people that looked unnervingly like something from a zombie movie, elves in every shade of purple and lilac, and — 

"Does anyone else see the talking cow," Jack asked, squinting, "or is it just me?"

"It's not just you, sir," Carter said, and discreetly guided him toward where Azrick stood emphatically beckoning outside a small adobe hut.

Inside, bubbling flasks and retorts and alembics crowded one of the counters. A scowling short green-skinned man wearing even brighter green clothing pointed to a low, empty table, and Teal'c gratefully laid down his burden.

Azrick gave the green man the bag of venom sacs and bulbs, handed over a fragment of something gold, and pointed to Windbag's swollen, envenomed wounds and burned skin.

"The man in green is an alchemist," Teal'c said. "He will make an antidote to counteract the scorpion's stings."

"So he's a doctor?" Sam asked.

"No, he is saying he can only provide potions to counteract toxic substances. To treat Windbag's burns it is necessary to find a — magician of cloth? — and purchase bandages."

Jack shook his head. "I'm not gonna say it."

Azrick pointed at O'Neill. The alchemist shrugged.

Azrick said something in his sing-song language, then angrily handed the green man a second gold fragment.

The alchemist bit the chunk of gold, tapped it on the counter, and then set to work.

For all that he was a purveyor of an archaic medical treatment, the alchemist worked quickly. In less than a quarter hour he had produced a slightly luminous turquoise liquid.

Teal'c held Windbag up so that Azrick could trickle the potion into his mouth, and then Azrick, clearly not entirely comfortable that he had an audience, leaned over Windbag and began to berate him in an exasperated whisper.

Windbag swallowed painfully, and opened his eyes. He said a few words, lifted his hand to touch Azrick's cheek, then closed his eyes again, in sleep.

At this Azrick hurried out the door, apparently to acquire bandages.

The alchemist gestured for Jack to sit down and tip his head back.

Jack was about to hold up his hands in the universal gesture of _No thanks_ when Sam said, "Sir, the marks from the stings are almost gone."

Even as they watched, the swelling and discharge from the stings were visibly subsiding.

"That's impossible," Jack said. "Nothing could work that fast. And definitely not an archaic medical procedure!"

"An epi-pen works that fast."

"But not blue goop in a tiki cup!" Jack said. "Blue goop made from scorpion guts! That's not on par with an epi-pen!"

"The blood from horseshoe crabs is blue, and it — " Sam started to say.

"Okay! Fair enough! But how?"

"Clarke's Law?" Sam said. _" 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'_ Maybe here the inverse is true."

"So what looks like magic here is really… some kind of advanced technology?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm saying it would appear as such to us, because that's our deductive framework." 

Jack shook his head. "Wait, let me get this straight, Carter. You, a scientist, the brainiest brain I know, are telling me that magic is real?" 

Sam glanced at the alchemist, who was tapping his foot impatiently. "Certainly not everywhere, sir, but at least it is here. And right now it's all we've got." 

Jack squinted down at Windbag. "That can't be that comfortable," he said.

"Sleeping on a table?"

"Sleeping on a tail that big." He turned to the alchemist. "Alright, lumpy, I guess I'm ready for my magic eye medicine."

.

Azrick returned with bandages while Teal'c was explaining to the alchemist that Colonel O'Neill did not want to trade his tactical vest for a bottle of Giant Growth Elixir. By the time Azrick and Sam had finished bandaging Windbag's burned legs, the blue alien was awake, and apparently insisted that SG-1 allow him to buy them a round of drinks.

Jack, who to his surprise could now see even the tiny print of the field ration packaging perfectly, said, "Sure, why not? Pink elephants are probably real here too."

They helped Windbag hobble across the center of Gadgetzan to a slightly larger adobe hut, which apparently also functioned as a mess hall and break room. They sat at a battered, splintery table while Azrick went to the bar to order. 

"Hey, does anyone else see the cows walking around?" Jack asked in a whisper.

"Yes," Sam replied.

Most of the patrons paid them no attention, but two tusked, blue skinned women with long, back-swept ears and wildly-colored hair were watching intently from the next table. The one with smaller tusks said something short and harsh-sounding; her larger-tusked friend put a three-fingered hand on her arm, as if trying to calm her. 

Teal'c said quietly. "It might be best if we do not tarry here long."

"That's the plan," Jack said. "Or _was_ the plan."

Azrick returned with five tankards of something unidentifiable.

"Mead, I presume?" Jack asked. "Or is it a hearty dwarven ale?"

Windbag held up his tankard, made a short speech, and then said heartily, _"Archenon poros!"_

The other four repeated this, clinking tankards, and they all drank.

"Not bad," Jack said, and took a second sip. "Mead-ale."

The two blue-skinned women at the next table watched this with undisguised interest. Azrick, clearly irritated, finally said something to them that did not sound entirely friendly, but instead of getting angry the two guffawed, tossed a coin across the room to the bartender, and left arm in arm.

"What was that about?" Jack asked.

Teal'c, whose eyes had widened at Azrick's remark, said, "I am not sure I understood it properly, but I believe it had something to do with husbands and wives." He hid what appeared to be a suppressed smile by taking a long swallow of his mead-ale. 

"So what are these two fellas going to do now?" Jack asked, glancing over at an elven woman in a slave Leia getup who was seating herself at the table the blue skinned women had vacated.

After a brief exchange, Teal'c said, "They say they are going to buy a cottage near the Thunder Cliff area and become potato farmers."

"Sounds like a plan." Jack drained his tankard. "We might have to join them out there, as it looks as though OUR RIDE HOME HAS DITCHED US."

"Maybe not," Sam said. She turned to the elf in the revealing outfit and said firmly, "Bring us back. _Now."_

The elf sighed, flipped back a stray curl of hair, then said in English, "Alright, I guess I've got enough. Meet me outside and I'll open a portal."

SG-1 thanked Azrick for the mead, let Windbag shake each of their hands — _"Dio niece a car_ to you too," Jack said — and then went around the back of the inn where the elf had made what looked like an oval window into Martin Lloyd's guest bedroom. 

.

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##  _Montana (again)_

.

As soon as they were back in Martin's guest bedroom Jack demanded, "Got enough _what,_ Marty?"

"You were watching the entire time," Sam said angrily, "so you knew we were in trouble. Why didn't you bring us out sooner? Why did you make us go through all that?"

"I, I needed to get a recording of you interacting with the environment," Martin said, ducking his head, "and I needed to see if the interactions would go both ways."

"The environmental interaction threw venom in my eyes and almost blinded me!" Jack said.

"I know, I know. But other than that it was going really well. And, you're all okay, aren't you? I can't believe Pestlezugg healed your eye injury! I thought i was going to have to advertise on Reddit for test subjects, but that recording is the only proof of concept I'll need — "

Teal'c was unplugging Martin's computers. 

"Can't I at least save a few screen caps?" Martin asked. 

Glowering, Teal'c handed the computers to the security police outside the bedroom.

"It's okay if you just email me a few," Martin said. 

Jack then directed the remaining SPs to take the minigate into possession as well. Martin objected, of course, but after Jack explained the possible consequences of putting valued SGC personnel in mortal danger — "and that desert crossing counts as torture," he said darkly — Martin backed down.

When SG-1 finally crossed the street to their car, dawn was just beginning to pink the eastern sky. They had been in Azeroth nearly an entire day.

Jack handed Sam the keys. "You'd better drive, Carter. I should rest my eyes, make sure they've healed properly."

"Of course, sir."

Jack took shotgun; Teal'c folded himself into the back seat and fell asleep almost immediately.

"I called Daniel," Sam said as she started the car. "He's looking forward to seeing the recording Martin made of our adventures." 

"Is he now?" Jack said, putting on his sunglasses. "Did he have fun at his seminar yesterday?"

"He said it was boring, but —"

"Yeah, he loves hanging out with those geeks."

"I asked him about what Windbag said to Azrick when he first woke up," she said. "Daniel said it sounded like a form of Greek, and as best as he could tell — "

"Yeah yeah, that's Daniel. Five minutes of disclaimers." Jack pulled the bill of his baseball cap down. "So did he finally offer any guesses about what it meant?"

"He said it was probably something like a cross between 'my foolish one' and 'my dear one.' "

"Well, I coulda guessed _that."_ Jack settled into the seat as if he was going to nap, but then asked, "Hey, Carter, how did you know Marty was the hot elf babe?" 

"You thought she was hot, sir?" Sam teased as she took the on-ramp toward the airport. "Sounds like archaic medical practices did a pretty good job healing your eyes after all."

Several minutes went by before Jack leaned toward her and asked again, "No, seriously, how did you know?"

Sam just grinned.

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.

_~ The End ~_

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_first posted 30 April 2020; revised 14 July 2020_

**Author's Note:**

> This gift also fulfills my April challenge prompt mini card from the Dreamwidth Hurt/Comfort Bingo community; _Archaic medical procedure, burns, dungeon, low blood sugar/hypoglycemia._
> 
> I fudged the timeline a bit. First, by the time WoW came out in 2004, Jack was a Brigadier General and Carter was a Colonel. Second, draenei weren't yet in the game in 2005, which is roughly my headcanon for when this is taking place. Third, although present in vanilla WoW, the entrance to Uldum was blocked until the Cataclysm expansion in 2010 (which is also when the Halls of Origination became available (although the dungeon described here has a bit of Uldaman sandwiched in. (But I felt this was fair, because both are Titan constructs, more or less.)))
> 
> Just in case your Draenic is rusty, _Archenon poros_ = Good fortune, and _Dioniss aca_ = Safe journey.


End file.
